Darker Days
by Fic Fairy
Summary: "Sometimes events that should bring you closer together just drive you further apart". On the opening day of the Helicopter Crash Inquests, Jacob realises that something has to give in his relationship with Connie, for Grace's sake as well as his own. In short, if you're looking for cheerful you're in the wrong place!


**Darker** **Days**

Jacob's day got off to a bad start for so many reasons it was impossible to call which of them was the worst. Whether it was the rude awakening of the banging on the front door, or the crashing realisation that he'd slept through the alarm, or just the sinking feeling of waking up, yet again, in the spare room, wedged uncomfortably on the sofa bed that had once been the domain of Grace's friends at sleepovers and therefore was sized accordingly. Quite frankly it was enough to make him wish he could close his eyes and go back to sleep again.

That said though, he knew it wasn't an option, not that day. Swearing under his breath he manoeuvred himself off of the sofa, threw on his robe and ran down the stairs at such a speed that he skipped a step, nearly lost his footing and narrowly avoided going arse over apex. At the bottom, he adjusted his robe and then opened the door, trying to appear calm and collected.

"I've been knocking for five minutes."

Typical Sam. No time for niceties and looking ridiculously suave in a suit that probably would have cost Jacob two months wages. Grace's father had an innate talent for making Jacob feel hugely inadequate just by looking at him. Still, it wasn't the day for a battle of egos.

"We overslept." He acknowledged, and then added, as if to excuse himself, "We had a bad night with Grace. We didn't get to bed until 4."

The 'we' was something of a stretch, if not an outright lie, but somehow even given the ongoing issues he was having with Connie, he wasn't about to bring them to Sam's attention, not least because he felt that would reflect badly on him as much as it would her.

Unfortunately - as he was to discover moments later - Connie didn't have the same virtues of pride, dignity and discretion as he did, and as he led Sam into the living room, asking as genially as he could about his journey, he was greeted by the debris of his girlfriend's little party for one the night before.

Behind him, Sam's description of the flight from hell died on his lips as he, like Jacob surveyed the empty bottle on the coffee table, smashed glass on the floor and the drip pattern stains of whisky on the wall. There was an awkward silence and then Sam turned to him, a questioning look on his face, "What the Hell happened here?"

Jacob sighed and moved to clean up the glass, keen to keep busy, keep his back to Sam and not see the sense of judgement in his eyes. "I don't know. Like I said, I had a bad night with Grace. I was busy upstairs." Second time round he had no doubts about revealing the truth of the events the night before; Connie had already landed herself in it and in all honesty he was getting a bit tired of having to cover up the fact she was a long way from the mother of the year she outwardly portrayed herself to be.

Sam quickly picked up in the nuance of his language, as Jacob knew he would, "YOU had a bad night with Grace? Connie wasn't with her?"

"No. She wasn't." He got to his feet and bits of broken glass in hand walked into the kitchen, hoping, although he knew it was wishful thinking, that Sam wouldn't follow him.

No such luck.

"What's going on, Jacob?" Sam asked from the kitchen door, "What aren't you telling me? What has Connie not been telling me? We talk daily, she said she was fine."

Jacob snorted. Fine was not a word he'd use to describe Connie at present, not by a long shot. In fact, she was anything but fine and hadn't been for months. He'd hidden it for as long as he could but quite frankly it was starting to feel like the end of the road. That said, Grace was still in bed, he had no idea where Connie was or in what state she was in, and they had to leave the house in 35 minutes. It wasn't the time for a major confessional with Sam. He forced himself to look at the other man, "Can we talk later? The girls are still in bed. I'm going to need some help."

For a moment it looked like Sam was going to argue and stick with the issue like a dog with a bone, but then he looked at his watch and nodded, "Fine. But we WILL be having that conversation, Jacob, I can assure you." He glanced around the kitchen, "What do you need me to do? Coffee?" He added at the end, obviously thinking of the empty whisky bottle in the other room and the hangover it had likely caused.

Jacob thought momentarily. The natural thing would seem to be Sam helping Grace out; he was her father after all. But, given recent experiences, he wasn't going to allow him to just go charging into her room unaware of any surprises that might greet him. That said, he wasn't going to leave Sam to deal with Connie either. He guessed he was just going to have to balance the two. It wasn't like he didn't have the practice.

He turned to Sam, "Sounds good. You do that. I'll wake Grace, and sort her clothes then you can take over whilst I wake Connie. OK?" He waited for Sam to argue and was pleasantly surprised when no debate came. Instead Sam just nodded, "Of course."

He left the other man wrestling with the complexities of Connie's coffee machine and made his way upstairs to Grace's room. He knocked - gently - and then entered the room to find Grace already awake, staring at the ceiling, tears in her eyes, and a sense of panic on her face, although the latter disappeared as she realised it was Jacob coming into the room, which made him glad he'd made the decision he had regarding Sam.

"Hey, Firecracker." He said with a smile as he went to her side and perched on the edge of the bed. "How are we doing this morning?" It was phrased as a casual enquiry but Grace knew what he was actually asking, and her tears spilt over in response, giving him all the answers he needed. Gently he reached out and helped her into a sitting position, pulling her into his arms, stroking her hair soothingly. She crumpled into his embrace and sobbed, mumbling words of apology that weren't even slightly necessary.

"It's ok." He said reassuringly, as he continued to hold her, "You don't need to apologise, but you should have called me. You didn't need to just lie there."

She looked up at him, swallowing hard as she battled to control his tears, "I couldn't. What if mum had come?"

He nodded with understanding but it was an ongoing issue that was draining him. He loved her so much, and was desperate to protect her and respect her wishes, but the knowledge he had and the secrets he kept made his continuous battles with Connie even harder. At that moment though, it wasn't important, Grace needed to be his focus. She was the important one.

He carefully lifted her from the bed and carried her to her ensuite bathroom, before running her a bath and lowering her into the bubbles. In the early days, when she'd first come home from hospital, she'd been embarrassed by him nursing her, but now they'd done it so often it seemed like second nature to both of them. Once he was sure she was stable and not about to slip, he gathered her pyjamas from the floor and returned to the bedroom to strip the bed. Again.

The bed wetting had started on Grace's second day home. Connie had disappeared off to the gym, leaving Jacob to get Grace up. She'd been horrified when she saw him and used every trick in the book to avoid having to get out of bed; feigning illness, being generally obnoxious, and then finally bursting into tears and admitting the truth; confessing that she'd had a bad dream and had soaking wet sheets as a result. The poor kid had clearly been mortified and no amount of reassurance that it was completely understandable given all she had been through made her feel better. She had however grown to trust him, and as her problem had intensified he'd become her go to person. Her shoulder to cry on, her carer, the one she looked to for support.

Which was just as well with her father in America, and a mother who may as well have been.

He sorted her clothes then returned to the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath,

"Your Dad is downstairs. Can I send him up to help you whilst I get mum up?"

Her eyes widened at his words and she asked him the question he could have preempted. "You didn't tell him about, you know?" She nodded in the direction of the bedroom, "You promised Jacob."

He leant over and planted a kiss on her forehead, "I've not said anything. It's between you and me, ok?"

The relief on her face was clear, and then she slowly nodded, "OK. Dad can help me." She paused and looked at him questioningly, eyes raised, "You said you had to get mum up. Is she," she made quotations marks in the air with her fingers, and said knowingly, "sick again."

He groaned inwardly. As much as he'd tried to shield her from Connie's issues she was a bright spark and missed nothing. Connie may have been oblivious to Grace's issues but Grace was more than aware of hers. He reached for her hand, and squeezed it, "Shush, baby girl," he told her, hoping he sounded more convincing than he felt, "you've got nothing to worry about, mum is going to be fine. I promise."


End file.
